Every Time
by cr8vgrl
Summary: Every time he comes to me, his best friend, when he breaks up with yet another girlfriend, my heart breaks more than his does, because I know that I will never be anything more than just a friend to him, a shoulder to cry on, a soundboard....or will I?
1. Every Girlfriend

**Every time he shows up at my door, heartbroken once again, my heart breaks and soars at the same time.**

Trisha Graham was just attempting to pull a casserole out of the oven without using oven mitts when the shrill call of the telephone broke the relative silence in the room. Trisha jumped and screamed, having burned her hand on the hot dish and lunged for the phone on the other side of the kitchen. Pushing the burned part of her hand into her mouth, she answered the phone. "Hello?" she asked, her voice sounding strained and on the edge of tears.

"You burned yourself again." The voice was matter-of-fact, tinged with concern and a bit of amusement.

Trisha rolled her eyes. "Hi to you too," she muttered. "And it's not my fault!" she defended. "I really can't find those mitts!"

"Sure, sure," the voice teased. "They got up and walked away. Say no more, I know the story. What did you burn this time?"

"My hand," Trisha said gruffly. "At least I didn't spill everything down the front of my shirt like last time. Those scabs haven't all come off yet."

For a moment, the line went quiet. Then, the voice said with a sigh, "Trish, you do so much for us. Why?"

Trisha made her way to the kitchen sink, turning the water on low and sticking her throbbing hand under the stream of coolness. "Because you're my best friends, and my world. What else? Plus, this isn't for you. It's for a customer. So presumptuous of you!"

"Trish-" the person on the other end seemed to hesitate, something they rarely ever did.

This action made Trisha stand up straighter and grip the phone tighter. "Shane," she whispered. "Did something happen?"

Shane Grey seemed to hesitate even longer this time. "Let's just say that he'll probably be showing up any minute, and he'll need one of your special menus."

Trisha hurried to the stove and turned it off, not wanting her casserole to burn while she talked. "Okay," she said. "I'll be ready."

"Trish," Shane said again, his voice carrying a hint of a warning tone. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

Trisha busied herself by cleaning up the kitchen space as she talked, the phone tucked under her ear. "Of course I can handle it. Shane, I'm not a baby. He comes to me every time this happens. Why should this be any different?"

"It isn't," Shane said quietly. "It's just that I know it breaks your heart more than it does his."

"I doubt it," Trisha scoffed, trying to sound nonchalant even though she knew what her friend was saying was true.

"I don't," Shane replied. "Everyone but Nate knows that you're in love with him, and that's your fault for being so secretive. Why can't you tell him?"

Trisha sighed, leaning against the counter. Her hand had stopped throbbing so insistently, replaced by another throbbing in her heart region. Why couldn't she tell him? Why couldn't she, the person that knew him better than anyone else, tell him that she'd loved him forever? "I just can't," was her eloquent reply. Before Shane could get started on all of his reasons (he had many) as to why she and Nate were perfect for each other, Trisha hastily changed the subject. "When are you guys coming for dinner?"

Shane noticed the change in subject but shrugged it off and decided not to reprimand his friend just that moment. "Sometime around five," he said. "Sound good to you?"

"Sure," Trisha said, pulling herself away from the counter's support and striding towards the large fridge. "I'll just make some adjustments to the menu."

"Let me guess," Shane drawled, and there was a trace of amusement in his voice, "you're going to make a favorite of Nate's now?"

"You know, Shane," Trisha teased, pulling out ingredients from the fridge. "For all your Hollywood pop star looks, you've actually got a rather sharp brain under that bed hair."

"Hey!" the phone screeched, indignant. "You do _not_ insult my hair like that!"

Trisha smiled and tried to make her voice sound apologetic. "Sorry." It didn't work.

"No you're not," Shane scoffed, "but never mind. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

A sadness swept over Trisha as she remembered the reason for Shane's call. "Thanks," she said. "I'll be on the lookout for him." She heard the buzzer sound in the front and said, "Shane, I've got to go. See you tonight?"

"Sure," Shane responded. "Bye, Trish."

Trisha put the phone down and hurried to the front door of her store, throwing it wide open so that the young man standing there could step inside. "Sorry about that," she apologized, cursing herself when she realized that he was a new customer. _"Way to make an impression, genius,"_ she thought as she ushered him into the room. "I was trying to get everything together for you," she explained, wincing slightly as she stretched the truth a little.

She looked up to see if the guy was buying it, and by the look on his face, he didn't seem to care what she was saying. His eyes were constantly flickering from her face to her feet and back again, and Trisha turned around quickly, hurrying back to the kitchen. "Just have a seat!" she called over her shoulder. "I'll be out with your order in a minute."

She scrambled around in the kitchen, looking for the right to-go box and then hurried to the stove and opened the oven door, hopping that the pan had cooled slightly. She gently tapped the sides and experimentally gripped the edges, breathing a sigh of relief when she realized that the pan was warm, but not hot. She dished up the casserole and rang up the total. Putting the casserole in a bag, she took it out into the front of the restaurant so that she could hand it to the customer, who was still watching her with a ridiculous grin and flickering eyes that were becoming unnerving. "Here you are," she said, handing him the total.

The young man took the receipt and handed her the proper amount. Trisha handed him the casserole and smiled. "Thank you," she said.

"No," he corrected her as he took the bag. "Thank you." He grinned at her and asked, "May I have your number?"

A dozen thoughts flashed through Trisha's mind, _"No, I have a boyfriend," "No, I can't," "No, I've vowed not to date anyone because I'm in love with my best friend," _and _"No, you scare me,"_ being only a few of them. She stood there for a moment, feeling foolish, and finally decided on her most-used excuse. "I'm sorry, but I'm not dating at the moment. Thank you for the compliment, though."

The young man left, looking slightly dejected, and Trisha weighed the thought of losing a customer to having to go on her first date with someone who looked like he wanted to eat her instead of her food. No, one customer was definitely not worth it. She watched from one of the front windows as the guy pulled away from the curb and sighed, her mind wandering back to three years ago when she had founded this restaurant. She had always had a love for cooking, and when she had been a little girl, she was forever making cookies and brownies and other sorts of treats and taking them to school to share with everyone. When she grew up, she had started baking more intricate projects, and making dinner became one of her "chores." Now, she had her own restaurant, called Off The Chain. It was named after not only her best friend, but also for her business partner. He not only made the business decisions, but he also cooked a mean batch of macaroni and cheese.

"Speaking of Nate," Trisha mumbled out loud as she saw her friend speed up in his blue Murcielago. As he parked in the stall designated for him, Trisha sighed. Nate Grey was the boy that had everything. He had wealth, status, and a thousand or more screaming girls following him around. How had she been so fortunate to grow up with him, to still be his friend, and to be so close to him? How had she been so unfortunate as to fall in love with him? He was Everything, and she was nothing but Everything's friend.

Still, she was what he needed right now. Being a Nothing had its perks, because when you're a nobody from nowhere, people open up to you. They don't have to fear that what they say to you will end up in the next issue of Tiger Beat or People magazine. They feel comfortable about sharing their problems, knowing that your only motive for listening is that you care. So, with that in mind, Trisha squared her shoulders and threw the door open once more, this time opening her arms so that Nate could fall into them.

"Hi," she whispered quietly, holding him tightly as he breathed deeply, trying not to cry. "It's okay. I have tissues." She felt his shuddering laugh, and then he stepped back to look at her, his eyes red and his face haggard looking.

"So you know," he said, his voice sounding gravelly, completely unlike the rich, smooth voice Trisha was used to hearing.

"Not really," Trisha said. "I wasn't filled in on details." She tugged Nate's arm toward the kitchen where they always shared their secrets.

Nate was about to allow her tugging when he noticed the burn on her hand. He stopped her, caressing the hand carefully. "What did you do?" he asked, his voice strained as he looked at the new wound.

"It's nothing," Trisha said, trying to pull her hand away. "It'll heal. I was just being stupid, that's all. Nothing new." She attempted a carefree laugh, but it came out rather forced.

Trisha watched as Nate's eyes flickered to her chest and stomach, and she knew that he was thinking of the last time he had come, angry with his girlfriend for cheating on him. Trisha had been pulling a soup concoction off the stove when he had whirled on her, startling her. As a result, all the piping hot soup had spilled out and had rushed down the front of her shirt. Trisha knew that those scars would last forever, but she had refused to let Nate wallow in the self-anger that he had wanted to disappear into. Now, she felt the need to remind him…again. "It wasn't your fault," she said. "Stop thinking about it." She tugged at his arm, jerking him back from the memories and into the present. "Come on. I'll get you a menu."

Nate followed her, laughing bitterly. "You'd think that I would've learned the menu by heart by now," he said as they made their way past the restaurant and into the kitchen.

Trisha turned around and glared at him severely. "I should hope not," she said. "There's a lot of food on that menu." She sat him down at the staff table in the corner of the expansive kitchen and handed him the heartbreak menu. The heartbreak menu was a special menu that Off The Chain touted, catering to those lonely people who had just had their hearts broken. It contained everything from brokenhearted cookies to bleeding heart pancakes, which were pancakes with strawberry jam oozing out of them.

Nate perused the menu for a moment and finally decided. "I'll take your Heart Break Hot Chocolate," he said, "and your Half Heart Cookies."

Trisha nodded and got to work whipping up the hot cocoa and the cookies. The cookies were her own special recipe and they only took a few minutes to bake, so she made those first and then began on the hot cocoa, working in silence until she could give Nate her undivided attention. "There you are," she said, setting the treats down in front of her friend. "Don't eat too many, though, or else you won't have room for your dinner."

Nate smacked his forehead mid bite. "That was tonight!" he exclaimed. "Today is Friday!"

Trisha nodded. "Yes, today is Friday," she said patiently. As tradition demanded, the Grey brothers came over to the restaurant every Friday night to have dinner, except for when they were out of town on their tours.

"I'm sorry, Cracker," Nate said softly, using the nickname for Trisha that he had given her when he had learned her last name. "I completely forgot what day it was."

"No problem," Trisha said, putting her chin in her hands. "At least you're here. Now, tell me what happened."

Nate's eyes clouded over, and he sighed. "She dumped me because she can't stand my seriousness anymore."

"Are you serious?!" Trisha exclaimed. For the years she had known the Greys, she'd heard a lot of lame excuses for breaking up with them, but she'd never heard one quite that lame.

"Apparently I'm too serious," Nate said sulkily, taking her exclamation out of context.

Trisha rolled her eyes. "Not exactly what I meant," she muttered. Then, she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to wince as her shirt pulled at one of the scabs still left on her chest. "If that's what she came up with, then she wasn't worth it in the first place." She refrained from adding that she'd never liked his girlfriend anyway. That made absolutely no difference, for she didn't like any of Nate's girlfriends.

Nate went on to explain how the night had gone, while Trisha listened intently, saying all the right things in all the right places. Afterward, she gave him a hug and handed him a couple of tissues, even though she knew that he wouldn't use them. Sure enough, he thanked her and stuffed them into his pocket, asking instead, "So what are you making tonight?"

Trisha smiled at him, knowing from past experiences that he was trying to move on. "I'm making steaks with the seasonings you like, baked potatoes, and you're going to make the mac and cheese. Sound good?"

Nate smiled at her and stood, draining the last of his hot chocolate. "Sounds great," he said. He put his cup in the sink and turned around to find that Trisha had placed everything he needed for the macaroni and cheese out on the counter. He pulled her close, enveloping her in a hug. "You're the best friend," he whispered into her hair and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I don't know what I would do without you."

The sentiments were too close, yet so far away, from what she wanted to hear, so Trisha pushed him away gently and grinned saucily, flipping her auburn hair over her shoulder. "You'd starve," she said plainly. "All you can make is macaroni and cheese."

Nate tugged on her ponytail. "Point taken," he chuckled. "I need you." They fell into a comfortable silence as they prepared the evening meal, waiting for Nate's two brothers to arrive.

**A/N: So, what did you think? I'm having a slight writer's block on my other stories and I felt like I needed to take a break. Let me know if you liked it! :D Remember, I own nothing!**


	2. Every Dinner

**Every time he and his brothers come to dinner, I find myself imagining a different dinner scenario.**

One can always tell when Shane Grey has arrived, either by the sound of something being knocked over or by his call of, "Shane is in the house!" No one can mistake him for anyone else. Jason, on the other hand, is quiet and sweet, yet rather shy. He's the one that always follows Shane so that he can pick up whatever Shane knocks over. Tonight, both boys were rather subdued when they came through the side door entrance. Shane only managed to knock over a few bowls on his way in, all three of which Jason caught.

"Nice one," Trisha said with a smile as Jason placed the bowls back on the counter.

Jason smiled at her. "Thanks," he said. "I've had lots of practice." He shot a glare Shane's way, but the latter wasn't looking. He was giving his brother a hug.

Trisha smiled as she watched the exchange. For all his goofiness and randomness, Shane actually had a sensitive side, although he rarely showed it. Now, though, as he hugged his brother, Trisha could see the he was genuinely sorry for Nate. "She wasn't worth it," he said quietly as Nate hugged him back.

"I know," Nate responded, once again looking on the verge of tears. "But it still hurts."

Shane nodded. "It'll go away. She was just a video girl anyway."

Nate pulled away and smiled at his brother's description. Yes, she had been only after the money, fame, and title that went with dating him. "You're right," he said, and turned to Trisha. "Is dinner almost ready? Breaking up is killer on the appetite."

Trisha laughed and checked the grill next to the stove. "Should be done in about a minute," she said. She checked the potatoes and pulled them out of the oven just in time. Nate moved past his brothers so that he could bring the bowl of macaroni and cheese to the table, setting it on a hot pad so that the tablecloth would not melt.

"You'd better watch it," Shane teased his brother. "Trisha's sucking you in."

Nate raised an eyebrow at his older brother. "It's just macaroni and cheese," he said with a slight scoff in his voice. "Hardly something frightening."

Shane grinned at his brother. "See, there you're mistaken," he explained, winking at Trisha. "Today it may be 'just' macaroni and cheese, as you put it, but tomorrow, you might tell us that you're quitting the band and are going to take up shop here."

Trisha laughed as she brought the plates over to the table, motioning for everyone to sit down. "I highly doubt it," she told Shane, stressing the 'highly.' "Remember last summer when I allowed him to cook the mashed potatoes for dinner?"

Jason let out a snort. "You mean the burned potatoes?"

Trisha smiled as she herself sat down. "The very ones," she said with a smile. She looked over at Nate. "Perhaps you should stick to singing and leave the rest to me."

Shane and Jason snickered and Nate even cracked a smile. "Perhaps you're right," he said, trying to look stern. "Now, I think we should stop teasing me and get to eating."

Trisha sat up straighter in the seat she occupied across from him and saluted. "Yes Mr. President," she teased. The saucy remark earned her a light kick in the shin, nothing to harm or bruise her, but with just enough pressure to get the point across. "Sorry, Mr. President," she replied, trying to look serene, but the effect was lost when she burst out laughing, this time accompanied by Nate as well as his brothers.

"So how goes the restaurant?" Jason asked, changing the subject.

Trisha nodded, being in the midst of taking a sip of her soda, and replied, "Fine. It's going really well." She smiled at Nate. "We make a good team."

Shane noticed her wistful smile and agreed. "I agree," he said. "You two make a great team." This time it was Trisha who kicked him in the shin, and not so carefully. His pointed observation was lost on Nate, though, and the latter just smiled at his brother.

"So are you guys working on any new songs?" she asked, changing the subject once again.

"Not really," Jason said, cutting through his steak. His eyes sparkled as he teased. "Got anything we could use?"

Trisha groaned. "I've told you guys a hundred times if I've told you once!" she cried. "You're not getting anything from my song notebook." Years ago, she and Nate had gone through a song writing phase where that was all they wanted to do. Trisha had kept all of her works in a song notebook, and had even added a few as the years went on, but refused to show anyone. "They're not good enough," she protested.

Nate smiled at her. "I'm sure they're wonderful," he corrected, "but if you don't want to talk about it, we'll change the subject."

"Well I'm working on a song about a girl who's too shy to tell the guy she loves that she loves him," Shane piped up, earning another kick and a glare from Trisha. Nate saw the exchange and frowned. Why would the mention of that particular subject make Trisha angry?

"Sounds like another winner," Trisha said, getting up from the table and clearing the plates. "Who's up for dessert?"

"Ooh! Ooh! Me!" Shane called out, waving his hand around in the air and wildly bouncing up and down in his seat. "I want dessert!"

All three boys heard Trisha mutter something to the effect of "bottomless pit called a stomach," but she hurriedly served them large slices of her famous chocolate cake, smiling with satisfaction when they all moaned in delight. "I'm guessing you like it?" Trisha asked as she ate her own slice.

Nate rolled his eyes and said, "This is _so_ good. How do you come up with these recipes?"

Trisha smiled at him. "Womanly intuition," she replied. He grinned at her from across the table, and Trisha immediately thought about what it would be like to have him sitting there, across from her, at every meal. Thoughts of being married swirled around her as she daydreamed, completely unaware that she was, momentarily, lost to the world.

Nate waved a hand in front of her face, causing Trisha to jump back with a start. "Milky Way galaxy to Trisha," he said, "come back, Cracker."

"Whoa," Trisha replied, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "Sorry. What?"

Nate grinned at her and Shane cast her a sympathetic glance. Despite his rather scatterbrained moments, Shane was extremely in tune with the way Trisha's mind worked. He guessed that she was thinking something about Nate and winced as his brother asked, "Are you going out on any dates yet?"

Jason winced as well, and Trisha's face fell slightly, but she pulled it back up and replied with a forced smile, "Nope. I'm too busy with the restaurant and college."

Nate rolled his eyes. "Trish," he said, "you're twenty-three. You need to date."

Trisha raised her chin defiantly. "No I don't," she informed him.

"Why not?" he asked her.

"Because I haven't found the right guy yet!" she retorted. Upon saying such a lie, her mouth snapped closed and she focused all her attention on examining the tabletop. "When he wants me," she said quietly, "I'll date."

Nate looked slightly taken back at her revision, but wisely decided not to press her. "Well I hope he figures it out soon, Cracker," he said softly. "I wouldn't want you to get away from him."

Trisha looked up at him and smiled sadly. "No," she said. "I wouldn't either."

The boys, per tradition, stayed and did the dishes while Trisha set up the movies they would watch, and it was during this time that Nate asked his brother a question. "Shane?" he asked as he dried a cup and put it into the cupboard.

"What?" his brother answered, trying not to slosh water onto his shirt, a useless battle.

"Who is this guy that Trisha likes?" Nate blushed as he asked such a question and added, "I mean, I'm her best friend, and she won't tell me. That's the first I've ever heard of her liking someone."

Shane hesitated for a moment and then said, "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Nate dried a pot as he answered, "Because you and I both know that the minute I ask her about her feelings, she'll clam up. She won't say another word about them for years." This, Shane knew to be completely true of his friend. Nate put the pot in its correct spot and said softly, "You know who it is, don't you?"

"Yes," Shane said softly. "Why do you care?"

"Because obviously whoever he is, he's too blind to see what's right in front of him," Nate responded tartly.

Shane whirled on his brother, not caring any longer that the water sloshed all over him and the floor. "Maybe you should go to the optometrist, Nate," he said pointedly.

Nate frowned, confused. "Me?" he asked. "Why me?"

"Because Trisha's been in love with you since the fourth grade," was the curt reply. Without looking back after he had dropped his bomb, Shane left his brother standing alone in the kitchen, his mouth hanging wide open in shock.

**A/N: Duh duh duh DUH! Anyways, tell me what you think!**


	3. Every Hollywood Event

**Every time he asks me to go with him to a Hollywood event as his date, I cringe because I know that I will never go on an actual date with him.**

Trisha was in the middle of cooking an order for a customer when the back door to the kitchen flew open and Nate raced inside. "I need a date!" he cried.

Trisha's heart sank, knowing exactly what he meant, but she pushed her fears aside and gave him a deadpan innocent look. "February 26," she said.

Nate stopped and stared at her, confused. "What?" he asked, thinking that she was speaking about an entirely different subject.

"You said 'I need a date,'" Trisha explained with a smirk, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "I gave you one."

Nate shook his head and shrugged. "I'm too frazzled right now for sarcasm to work on me," he explained. For the first time, his eyes focused on the concoction in front of Trisha and he made a disgusted face. "_What_ are you making? The government's first edible torturing device?"

Trisha made a face right back at him. "Ha ha," she said. "Very funny. Actually, this is the sauce for my enchiladas." She looked up at him and said innocently, "You know, the ones you love so much."

Nate glanced back at the bowl warily and shuddered. "Moving on," he said. "I need a date, as in a person," he glanced down at Trisha, "as in you, for the premiere over the weekend." He batted his eyelashes, trying to look convincing. "Please?"

Trisha groaned. Why was it that she always had to go with Nate when he broke up with a girl? It was never published in magazines, but the stars whispered when Nate was out of hearing range that if "that Trisha girl" was there, he must've broken up with his girlfriend again. Trisha hung her head, knowing that Nate was waiting for her to say yes once again. Could she really do this again? Could she let people criticize her dress and her hair and basically everything about her once again? "Sure," she told him. "Why not?"

Nate's face broke out into a big grin and he hugged Trisha tightly, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Cracker," he whispered in her ear before he was bounding out the door, calling over his shoulder, "I'll have your dress delivered here tomorrow!"

Trisha raised her hand limply in a wave, knowing that by the time Nate turned around, he wouldn't be able to see her face. The answer to her questions was 'yes.' Of course she would go, for Nate. Of course she would look happy and carefree, for Nate. Because the truth was, she would do anything for Nate. She was so in love with him. _That_ would be her downfall.

Her dress arrived right on time, and as always, Nate had thought of everything. The dress itself was a strapless crème color that almost touched the floor. A burgundy jacket fitted snugly over Trisha shoulders, almost hiding the fact that the dress was strapless. At the bottom of the billowy skirt, someone had hand stitched little burgundy flowers so that they trailed up almost to mid thigh. A burgundy ribbon tied around her waist completed the classy outfit, and once Trisha had managed to button all the buttons and had tied everything that needed to be tied, she bent down to open the box that accompanied the dress. Inside, she found a pair of crème pumps and crème colored nylons.

"You think of everything," Trisha whispered as she slid the stockings and the shoes on. She checked the delicate watch on her wrist and realized that she only had a few minutes before the limo was due to arrive. She scrambled into the bathroom and fixed her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. She secured part of her hair in a clasp and then hurried to look out the window. "Right on time," she said when she spotted the limo idling outside the store. With one last, deep breath, she headed down the stairs and out to the car.

The glitz, the glamour, and the politically correct catfights of the Hollywood scene were enough to drive Trisha crazy. No sooner had Nate stepped out of the limo and reached in to help her out than people began whispering. Stars turned around to let their eyes move up and down Trisha's body, scrutinizing her outfit, and she rolled her eyes. Nate, whose back was turned, (as usual) thought that she was rolling her eyes because she was already bored. "Just for a few hours," he whispered into her ear.

Trisha pasted on a fake smile and nodded at him. _"If I can live that long,"_ she thought.

Shane gave her an encouraging glance, and Trisha lightly rested her arm on Nate's as he guided her down the carpet, talking to reporters and giving them just enough of a scoop to make him their best friend. Trisha stood next to him the whole time, smiling and laughing in all the right places, inwardly cringing as each reporter sized her up. When would this end?

It seemed like hours before the premiere ended. Trisha mentally ticked off part of the evening. Now, she must survive the afterparty. If she could do that, then in three more hours, she could go home. Once home, she'd be able to think back on all the glares, stares, and open snubs and laugh, brushing her true feelings away until the next time she was forced to bring them out for the love of her friend. "I can do this," she whispered, knowing that no one would be able to hear her above the hum of the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a photographer taking a picture of her, but she didn't pay much attention. They never published their pictures anyways. She frowned slightly, knowing that the reason for that was because there was no story.

"Was the movie that bad?" Nate asked teasingly, startling Trisha.

"What?" she asked, disoriented.

"I asked if the movie was that bad," Nate explained. He reached up and gently spread his fingers over her forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles there. "You were frowning."

"Sorry," Trisha said, blushing, desperately trying not to look around and make sure that no one was watching. "No, it wasn't the movie. It was something else."

"Oh," was all that Nate said as he guided her through the crowd and into the ballroom where the afterparty would be held. He settled Trisha on a corner, as usual, and then went off to mingle, as usual. Trisha frowned once more as she thought about how tired she was of this routine. She was tired of being "just" a friend. She looked up, unconsciously looking for Nate in the crowd and found him talking to a tall, attractive young movie star named Caitlyn Gellar. They both looked over at Trisha and caught her looking, so they looked away. Now if that wasn't suspicious...

Trisha watched Nate shake Caitlyn's hand and then give her a kiss on the cheek and cringed. It looked like Nate had gotten yet another star studded girlfriend, and it wasn't her.

**A/N: Comments???**


	4. Every Date

**Every time he comes in, his eyes shining over a new love interest, I feel my heart break once again.**

Trisha was serving customers and filling orders in the busy restaurant, when Shane came barreling in through the back door entrance. "Trish! Trish!" he called loudly, trying to find her.

Trish, who had just finished serving a dish to a customer, looked up from the table, blushing as all eyes turned to her. "Sorry about that," she told the customers, raising her voice to be heard throughout the little establishment. "I'll be right back to get some of your orders." With that, she scurried into the kitchen, dragging an embarrassed Shane behind her.

Once safely inside the confines of the kitchen, Trisha whirled on him. "What's the big idea?" she cried. "I actually want to keep my customers coming back for more of my good food, good drinks, and," she glared pointedly at Shane, "the peace and quiet this place gives off." She folded her arms over her chest, wincing slightly as she felt the scabs pulling at her shirt. "What are you in such a hurry over anyway?" She smirked. "Is something in the microwave on fire again?" The Grey boys were notorious for setting off food flare ups in their microwaves.

Shane grinned, "Ha ha," he said, "very funny." Then, his face darkened. "Actually, I was-"

Somewhere, someone called out, "Hey, Trisha!"

Trisha held up one finger in front of Shane's face and commanded, "Hold that thought." She turned and scrambled out into the restaurant, leaving Shane standing there in the middle of the kitchen, grimacing that of all the news he could be bringing, people had to interrupt _this_ news.

Trisha, meanwhile, was apologizing to the regular couple that was seated at one of the far tables. "I'm dreadfully sorry about that," she told them. "I'm not sure why he's in such a rush."

"Oh, it's no problem," said the young woman, smiling up at Trisha. "He's Shane Grey, isn't he? He's rather cute in person."

"Hey!" her husband cried out, looking mock offended.

The woman shrugged. "Well, dear, it's true." She winked at Trisha to show her that she was kidding, making sure that her husband could see it as well. "Don't worry. I won't make any moves. I'm tied down, remember?" She waved her wedding ring in front of her husband's face, a teasing look easily readable in her bright eyes.

Trisha picked up the empty dish from the husband's side and said, "Believe me, Richard, she's so happily "tied down" that she can't see straight at times, right, Anita?"

Anita grinned and put a finger to her lips. "Shh!" she cautioned teasingly. "Don't give away all my secrets, Trish."

Trisha smiled at the couple and said, "I'll get that dessert you ordered in just a minute." She headed back to the kitchen, motioning politely for the other diners to wait just a moment and she would be back to help them. As she pushed open the kitchen door, she found Shane pacing broodingly up and down the kitchen. She wanted to ask what was wrong, for Shane Grey never paced, but she had customers that needed attention. Shane would just have to wait.

Shane saw her come in and turned, opening his mouth to speak. "Trish," he began, but got no further since Trisha held up her hand hurriedly, silencing him.

"Hold on, Shane," she told him, rinsing off the dirty plate and placing it into the sink, along with the silverware. "I have to get a few people settled first."

"But-" Shane protested, but Trisha wouldn't listen. She carefully sliced the cake that Richard and Anita had requested and then she was once again out the kitchen door before he could say another word. Shane glared at the door, still swinging from when Trisha had pushed through it, and muttered, "It's important."

Trisha had served Anita and Richard their cake, hurrying back into the kitchen to get a couple of forks she had forgotten and made her way over to the other table that had signaled her. The lady and gentleman seated there were one of the "clients" Nate had sent over, begging Trisha to take especially good care of them. "They have friends," he had told her, "and acquaintances, and they all have to eat sooner or later, so they might as well eat at our restaurant."

"How can I help you?" Trisha asked, bending over slightly so that she could hear better.

"When you get a chance," the lady said, "I'd like to try that scrumptious-looking gelato you have." She nodded to her husband seated across from her. "And he'd like a slice of your apple pie." She smiled up at Trisha. "I've heard from Mr. Grey that all your food is fabulous, which it has been so far." Her eyes twinkled, yet were sympathetic at the same time. "But he didn't tell me that you were completely on your own here." She motioned to the restaurant floor with all its bright, cheery tables, all filled with guests that night. "You seem to be overworked."

Trisha smiled at her and her husband. "I've gotten used to it," she told the woman. "We thought about taking a couple of people on to help out, but we've never done it." She smiled at the woman. "Sometimes it's a challenge, but I love this place so much that I don't really think of it as work." She glanced around at the other tables and smiled, her face taking on a serene look. "I like making people happy." The woman regarded her kindly, and Trisha soon came out of her dream world. She smiled once more at the couple. "And since I like making people happy, I shall go get some of that gelato and pie right away."

"Thank you," the man said, and Trisha nodded, hurrying away. She was pleased that they were so polite. She was noticing that few people said "please" and "thank you" anymore, and those slight gestures warmed her heart.

She found Shane still pacing in the kitchen and shook her head, giving him a look. "Would you please sit down before you wear down my floor." He scowled at her and she shrugged. "Fine, don't sit down, but stop pacing. "I'll be with you in a second."

She headed for the large fridge, pulling the pie out and reaching into the freezer to find the gelato mixture, completely ignoring Shane. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and strode over to when she was standing, just having put the cake on a plate. "Trish," he said anxiously. "It's important."

She looked at him coolly, obviously annoyed, and said in a low, controlled voice, "So are my customers." With that, she pushed past him and headed out into the restaurant. She set the plates down in front of the couple and began passing out people's checks as they finished. Finally, she made it back into the kitchen, giving the last couples a chance to finish before they paid their bills.

"Okay," she said, putting her hands on her hips as she walked through the kitchen doorway. "What's so important. Has someone died?" Her voice was teasing, for she fully expected his "important" matter to be something inane.

Shane, having seated himself in one of the chairs around the small table, rose with a leap and opened him mouth. "Trish-" but once again, he was cut off.

Nate was the one who interrupted this time. He burst through the door just as Shane began, a huge, ridiculous grin on his face. Without even saying hello, he picked Trisha up and swung her around effortlessly. "I'm in love!" he cried.

"Put me down, you crazy fool!" Trisha cried, thumping on his back. "You're squeezing me to death!" He set her down and she pushed the auburn hair out of her eyes, grinning at him. "Now, what's all this nonsense about?"

Nate grinned at her. "It's not nonsense!" he exclaimed. "I really am in love." He held her back at arm's length and said, "And guess who I'm in love with."

"Who?" Trisha could barely squeeze the word out of her throat, her hope rising that it might actually be her name that issued from his lips as a response.

The grin only grew wider as Nate responded, "Caitlyn Gellar. And better yet, she's agreed to go on a date with me. Isn't that great?" He didn't wait for a response, he simply picked Trisha up and spun her around again. And it was during one of his rotations that Trisha spotted Shane's sympathetic face, and she knew without a doubt that those words had been what he was going to say. His "important" news this time had been vital, and she had ignored him.

He had come to warn her.

**A/N: Well?**


	5. Every Togetherness

**Every time I see them together, my stomach clenches as though I've been punched.**

Nate and Caitlyn stopped by a few weeks later, intent on "kidnapping" Trisha for the afternoon. "You work too hard," Nate explained. "You need to get out more, and today's your off day anyways. Come on, Cracker." The pleading look he gave her made Trisha roll her eyes.

"I can never resist that look," she said, almost sold on the idea of going, but trying to cling to any excuse not to be alone with Nate and Caitlyn, for it was too painful to see them together. "But today _is_ the day I do most of my baking, and I really should-"

"Nonsense!" Caitlyn exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she gave a tug on Trisha's arm. "You can do that later. We just want you for a few hours." She gave a mock pout and said, "We never see you anymore."

"_She acts like she saw me every day before she met Nate,"_ Trisha thought wryly, but had to agree that it was true. Wherever Nate and Caitlyn were not, Trisha was there, and wherever they were, she made some excuse to leave. The way they looked at each other made her sick, knowing that Nate would never look at her that way. She had never experienced love, had never given love a chance, and so she had no idea what a look of love actually looked like, but she guessed that it must be the looks that Caitlyn and Nate had written all across their faces.

"Please?" Nate asked, practically begging.

Trisha rolled her eyes, trying to hang on to any thread of excuse, but she felt it slipping out of her fingers, giving her rope burn as it went. "Fine," she said, almost immediately regretting it. "I'll get my bag."

She turned to head up the stairs to her little room above the restaurant when she head Nate say to Caitlyn, "Caity, would you go up with Trisha and make sure that she doesn't escape out the window or anything like that?"

Trisha turned around and opened her mouth to protest. "I-" she started, but Nate cut her off.

"I know you," he said, tapping the side of his head knowingly.

Trisha resisted the strong urge to glare at Caitlyn, who was striding toward her happily and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "You look familiar too," she responded tartly, whirling around and marching up the stairs, half hoping that her ponytail would wack Caitlyn in the face, and then immediately regretting that urge.

She opened the bedroom door and lunged for her messenger bag, hoping that if she retrieved it quickly enough, she wouldn't have to let Caitlyn into her room, but the latter girl was no to be deterred. She slipped inside just as Trisha turned around and closed the door behind her. "Trisha," she began quietly. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Do I have a choice?" The words flew out of Trisha's mouth before she could think, and her eyes widened with repentance. "I'm sorry," she hastily said. "I wasn't thinking."

Caitlyn smiled at her. "No problem," she assured Trisha, walking over and sitting down on Trisha's bed. Uh oh, this was going to be a long talk, perhaps even a heart-to-heart. Almost immediately, Trisha felt the walls around her heart beginning to rise, steeling her for any sudden declarations of love toward Nate. She wouldn't show her feelings, and she wouldn't show that she was hurt beyond belief by this pair and their sudden interest in each other.

Trisha leaned against the windowsill, trying to act natural. "Go ahead," she offered.

Caitlyn nodded, indicating that she had heard Trisha, and then said, "I know that you're pretty protective of Nate," she said and held up one hand to stem the protests that were about to issue forth, "and I think that's great. I just want you to know that I really want to get to know you better." Caitlyn smiled at Trisha. "So far, I like you. Can you give me a chance to prove myself likable?"

Trisha paused for a moment, rather stunned that this movie star was taking time to worry about her opinion, and then smiled rather tightly. "I'll try," she replied honestly.

Caitlyn nodded. "That's all I can ask for," she replied, standing up and striding to the door. "We'd better hurry or Nate'll leave without us."

* * *

The trio ended up at a park not far from the restaurant, and Caitlyn pulled the picnic basket out from the trunk of the car. "Where should we sit?" she asked.

"Trish and I always sit over there under that tree," Nate said, pointing across the expanse of grass to a large oak tree.

"Perfect," Caitlyn said, and made a move toward there, but Trisha stopped her.

"I think we should try a different spot," she explained hurriedly. "How about over there?" She pointed to another tree and waited for an answer, not daring to look up at Nate, for as soon as she looked up, he would know that she didn't really want to try a new spot, she just didn't want to share the old one.

"Once again," Caitlyn said cheerily, "perfect." She changed course and headed that way, letting Trisha lead them over to the new tree.

They picnicked there, and all was going well until Nate started tossing raisins into Caitlyn's mouth. Trisha watched with a pained expression as the couple seemed completely wrapped up in their game, a game that she was excluded from. She stood up in a hurry and said, "I think I'll go get a drink of water." Before either of them could point out that there was a water bottle right in front of her, Trisha took off, walking briskly towards the children's playground where she knew a water fountain stood. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the first number that came to mind.

"Hello?" the voice at the other end answered.

"Hey, Shane, it's me," Trisha said, pressing the phone into her ear so that she could hear over the sounds of the children playing.

"Hey, Trish, how's the picnic going?"

Trisha winced. "Terrible. Can you come and get me? I can't take anymore of this."

The voice at the other end of the line paused for a moment. "Sure," he said, his voice having changed in tone. "I'll be right over. Hang in there for about ten minutes."

"Thanks, Shane," Trisha said and hung up, making her way to the water fountain and taking a long drink. The water wasn't particularly cold, but it was better than still being on that blanket with those two lovebirds. Turning with a sigh, Trisha slowly made her way back across the park, coming up behind the couple. Just as she was about to call out to them, she heard part of their conversation.

"Nate," Caitlyn was saying, "we can't keep this a secret for much longer. You have to tell her soon."

"I know," was the reply, and Trisha noticed that Nate's voice sounded strained. "But give me time. I can't just spring this on her. She'd never forgive me."

"Well I'm getting tired of having to pretend," Caitlyn informed him. "She has to know soon, Nate."

With that, the two young adults fell silent, and Trisha walked the rest of the way up to them, a smile pasted on her face as though she'd never heard their conversation. "Hey," she said, making Nate jump.

His face reddened and Caitlyn covered for him. "Hey," she said. "You took long enough. That thirsty?" The question itself was innocent enough, but the look in Caitlyn's eyes showed a deeper question. They asked, _"Where have you been, and what were you doing?"_

"Yup," Trisha responded lightly, seating herself down on the blanket with a thump. "Sometimes I feel like a fish with no water and I just have to have a good long drink." She smiled sweetly at Caitlyn, once again not daring to look at Nate, who would know that she was lying. Water was one of her least favorite beverages.

The atmosphere seemed strained for a few minutes, and Trisha breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Shane walking towards the little group. "Hey guys," he called, waving madly. As he drew near to the group, he cast an apologetic look at his brother. "I hope you don't mind, but I need to kidnap Trish for a while. I really need her help."

"No," Caitlyn replied with another smile. "Not at all." She smiled at Trisha, who was halfway through already with clearing her place and said, "Don't worry about it. I'll clean it up. You go on."

"Are you sure?" Trisha asked, genuinely surprised at the offer.

"Sure," Caitlyn replied. "Have fun."

Trisha left with Shane, neither of them looking back at the couple, who was watching their departure. When they reached the car, Shane opened the door for Trisha and said, "So how about some ice cream?"

Trisha feigned shock as she smiled up at her friend. "What about really needing my help? You don't have a problem?"

"Many actually," Shane responded, earning a laugh from Trisha, "but my only problem right now is which flavor I should get." They both laughed, and they were off, leaving the charged atmosphere behind.

But still, Trisha couldn't help but wonder what Caitlyn and Nate had been talking about. Their conversation occupied her mind on the short drive to the ice cream parlor. "You need to tell her soon," Caitlyn had said. Why did Trisha feel as though she wasn't going to like what Nate would have to say?

**A/N: What do you think he's going to say? Uh oh!**


	6. Every Bomb

**Every time he drops a bomb on me, I always think that he can't drop a bigger one. I'm always wrong.**

Trisha was hanging off the end of her bed, reading upside down when Nate appeared in her room, opening the door without knocking. His sudden, unheard appearance startled Trisha and she completely lost her balance, falling with a thud off the edge of the bed. "Ow!" she cried, and Nate ran to her, picking her up almost effortlessly and setting her back on the bed.

"I'm so sorry," he told her, smoothing back her hair. "Are you alright?"

Trisha rubbed her head experimentally and replied, "Yes, no thanks to you." Her saucy smile assured Nate that she was only teasing.

"I'm really sorry," he told her again. "I should knock, shouldn't I?"

Trisha shrugged. "You can't teach an old dog new tricks," she muttered.

"Are you calling me old?" Nate cried, appearing to be offended. Immediately, a tickle war broke out, involving lots of rolling around on the bed, laughing, and gasping for breath. Soon, too tired to resist, Trisha held up her hands in surrender.

"I give up!" she cried, panting. Nate sat back, combing his fingers through his hair, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Is the young pup tired?" he asked teasingly. Trisha launched herself at him, and they tumbled off the bed, onto the carpet, and rolled around for another war that only lasted a few minutes.

"Okay!" Nate cried, worn out. "I give up! I surrender completely!"

Trisha smiled, pushing her now-unruly hair out of her eyes. "Good, old man," she teased. She sat back on her heels and shook her head. "I can't believe that I'll be turning twenty-four soon, and you'll be twenty-five." She shook her head in mock sadness. "A quarter of a century," she went on, giving him a couple pokes in his ribs, "and still so lifelike. However do you keep all the dust off?"

Nate glared at her. "I use Pledge," he retorted, which sent them into another round of laughter.

When the laughs subsided, Trisha smiled and leaned against the bed. "I've missed this," she said honestly.

Nate gazed at her for a moment, trying to judge her emotions. "Me too," he replied honestly. He sat back on his elbows, watching Trisha carefully. "I've missed sharing things with you."

"I assumed that you'd share everything with Caitlyn," Trisha replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"Well, you assumed wrong," Nate responded, and Trisha couldn't understand the tone he used. It was harsh, yet playful, sad and disappointed all at the same time, and that tone did not have a name yet. "You're my best friend. "You can share _anything_ with me." The stress on the "anything" did not go unnoticed by Trisha, but she didn't understand what he wanted her to say.

"If you want information, why don't you just ask?"she responded. "I don't know what you want me to share."

"Anything," Nate said, and the prodding tone was once again in his voice.

"I got that part," Trisha told him with a roll of her eyes. "What part of anything do you want to know."

"I want to know your feelings," Nate replied quietly, and immediately, he saw her face change from an expression of openness to one of steel. Just that one request had barred Trisha's heart from him, and Nate had no idea when she would open it again. "Trish," he began, "why have you always closed off your deepest feelings from everyone? Even me?"

Trisha shrugged, unsure herself as to why she did it. "I don't know," she mumbled. "I've always done it."

"I know," Nate responded dryly. "All the way back to fourth grade I can remember you being so secretive, and it's only gotten worse as the years go on. Trish, tell me what's wrong." His voice pleaded with her, and his eyes bore into hers, looking, searching for something that she didn't understand.

"I can't," she replied stiffly, rising from the floor.

Nate stood up with her and pulled her close before she had a chance to turn away. He held her tightly as he hugged her, whispering that he was sorry into her hair. "I should know better than to push you," he told her contritely. "I'm sorry."

Trisha felt her feelings smooth down from their attack mode and nodded. Nate always had that effect on her. "Come on," she motioned, leading him out of the room. "I'll make you anything you want."

"Anything?" Nate asked quietly.

Trisha nodded. "Just no promises or anything like that," she amended, and Nate snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. "I know you," she said, imitating his head-tapping gesture.

He followed her down the stairs and nodded. "You look rather familiar too," he teased, flinging her own words back at her.

They made their way into the kitchen and Nate had to once again admit that Trisha had done wonders with the restaurant. She had turned it from a dumpy little building into a homey, middle/upper class restaurant. Trisha absent-mindedly ran a hand over the kitchen counter as she waited for Nate to speak. Why was he looking at her like that? He looked like he wanted to see right into her mind, and she couldn't allow that. No one was allowed to see her thoughts, her feelings, or her desires. They were too volatile after all these years of being pent up.

She turned swiftly and faced away from him, pulling a multi-use pan out of the cupboard. "So what can I make you?" she asked, eager to put the rift behind her. "Anything you want."

"Well," Nate said slowly from behind her, "I was kind of hoping that you would cater a wedding dinner for me."

Trisha turned around, confused, pan still clutched in her hand. "A wedding dinner?" she asked. "I don't understand."

Nate took another step closer to her and said, "You see, I'm getting married." He paused for a moment and added, "To Caitlyn Gellar."

**A/N: Uh Oh! Let me know what you think! Hang in there with me! Only two more chapters at the most!**


	7. Every Request

**Every time I see them together, the stress pushes me a little more over the edge.**

Shane Grey was the most annoying person in the world. For two hours, he had been sitting there at the end of the table, completely calm, watching as Trisha paced back and forth, gathering each of the supplies needed for the large banquet dinner. "How many people are there going to be again?" she asked for the hundredth time.

"Four hundred," Shane replied, trying not to sound annoyed as he answered her question yet again, with the exact same answer he had given her ninety-nine times before.

"And he just expects me to come up with the right amount of food, and furthermore to make it hot?" Trisha's voice was on the edge of hysteria as she whirled towards Shane, her eyes dull and brimming with tears. "How can he expect me to do this?" she cried, ashamed at her outburst, but unable to keep the questions in. "Doesn't he see that I love him terribly?" A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away angrily. "I don't want to cater for him. I hate seeing him and Caitlyn Gellar so happy together." She looked up at Shane, her heart open for once, and asked, "What does she have that I don't?"

Her words made Shane cringe and he gathered her in his arms, holding her tightly as she cried, letting out some of her pent up frustration. He couldn't answer her, for he didn't understand his brother's thinking. He didn't understand his reasons for letting his best friend suffer the way she was being forced to. "Jason and I are here for you," Shane told Trisha, hugging her even tighter.

She smiled up at him weakly, and they both knew that that was not what she needed to hear at the moment. She wanted Nate to be there for her. "Now that I've made a fool of myself," Trisha said, pushing gently away from Shane's embrace, "I should get the preparations under way." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Shouldn't you be going soon?"

"Trying to get rid of me already, huh?" Shane teased, in an effort to brighten her spirits.

It worked, for a moment, and Trisha smiled. "Yup," she told him. "You wouldn't want your brother to be mad at you for being late." She glanced at the clock again and said, "I'll be heading to the banquet hall in a half an hour to start setting up." She smiled. "Thank goodness he hasn't asked me to serve the actually wedding luncheon. At least this is just the rehearsal dinner."

Shane smiled, gathering his stuff. "There's still a chance," he said hopefully as he stood and headed out the door. "See you later."

Trisha watched morosely as the door shut with a slight bang and whispered to no one in particular, "No, there's no hope now." She turned resolutely and began preparing the meal, expertly whipping up each concoction with ease as she planned out what she was going to wear that evening.

Exactly forty-five minutes later, Trisha arrived at the banquet hall where the dinner was going to be served. There was no one around, and all the dishes and cutlery were stacked in piles, so Trisha began to design the tables to her liking, placing everything just so. If this marriage was what would make Nate happy, then she, Trisha, would do her best to make every part she could be responsible for as lovely as possible.

"Trisha!" someone cried, causing Trisha to drop the fork and knife she was holding in surprise. She whirled around to find Nate standing there, looking once again bashfully. "I've really got to stop doing that," he muttered. "You always drop something, or land on your head." He gave Trisha a weak smile, which she returned.

"One would think I'd get used to you sneaking up on me after all these years, but I still can't handle it," Trisha responded, giving a weak little laugh.

Nate looked intently at her and strode over, bending down to pick up the eating utensils. "Yes," he said quietly, his face inches from hers. "One would also think that after all these years, you would be able to tell your best friend if something was the matter."

Trisha snatched the knife and fork from his hands, whirling around to place them, ironically, on Caitlyn's place. "There's nothing to tell," she responded, not sounding convincing even to herself. "I've told you everything."

Nate grabbed Trisha by her elbow and spun her around, causing her to almost tumble over from the force. "You haven't!" he exclaimed. "You've never explained to me why you don't want to be around Caitlyn, and you've never explained why you've stopped hanging around with me." He eyed her up and down, his voice breaking as he whispered, "You've gotten thinner."

Trisha yanked her arm away angrily, feeling the stress that had dissipated from her body once again returning. "So what?" she asked. "I've gotten a little thinner. You haven't been around for Friday night dinners, so I haven't been compelled to cook as much. With not as much to cook, I don't feel obligated to eat it." She amazed herself at how easily the lie rolled off her tongue, and her face twisted into a smirk as she threw Nate's absences back into his face.

Nate glared at her. "No one said that we would all be around for Friday nights forever. I, unlike you, have a life."

Trisha felt her temperature rising as well as her voice as she retorted, "I could've had a life, but I chose not to."

"And why didn't you?" Nate shot back, his fists clenching next to his sides. Both Trisha and he knew that he would never strike her, but the image was a slightly unsettling one.

"Because!" she spit out, not thinking clearly enough to guard her thoughts.

"Because why?"

"Because I'm in love with you!" she cried, and almost immediately, the angry look left Nate's eyes and before Trisha could process what was happening, she was in his arms being kissed.

**A/N: Hurray! I fixed it! Tell me what you think! One last chapter to go!**


	8. Every Kiss

**Every time he kisses me, my heart skips three or four beats.**

Having never been kissed before, Trisha's mind was swimming, and her legs threatened to give out on her from the force of Nate's kiss. Nate must have sensed her lightheadedness, for he wrapped his arms around Trisha's waist, holding her so tightly that he could feel her heart beating rapidly against his own. Very slowly, he drew away from her, leaning his head against her forehead and smiling slightly as he heard her rasping breathing. Never, in the many girlfriends he had kissed, had one taken his breath away like Trisha had.

Suddenly, Trisha leapt away from him, her face bright red and her breathing rather uneven. "How could you do that?" Nate noticed that she was trembling as she smoothed her clothes, which were now slightly rumpled due to the close quarters they had been exposed to. "You're about to get married!"

Nate smiled at her and turned around. "You can come in now, Caitlyn."

To Trisha's utter horror, Caitlyn appeared around the corner, striding into the room with her usual, graceful step. Trisha's face turned bright red all over again and she lowered her head in shame, studying the tiles on the floor intensely. She expected a torrent of hateful words, shouts and screams about cheating, maybe even a couple bursts of tears, but nothing of the sort came from Caitlyn. For a moment, all was quiet, which was worse than the yelling and screaming.

Caitlyn's designer shoes appeared in Trisha's downward line of vision, and Trisha forced herself to look up, anticipating a slap across the cheek, or something. What she didn't expect was to look up only to see Caitlyn, a huge grin stretched across her face. "Finally!" Caitlyn cried, flinging her arms around Trisha and hugging her tightly. Trisha, astonished, failed to hug back.

When Caitlyn pulled away, Trisha looked from Nate's grinning face to Caitlyn's flushed one and said with the raise of one eyebrow, "Am I missing something here?"

Caitlyn pulled out a chair from the banquet table and said, "Come sit down, Trisha."

Obediently, Trisha sat in the chair, and Caitlyn and Nate stood on either side of the chair, right in front of her. "Okay," she said hesitantly, waiting for one of them to say something.

Caitlyn began. "Nate came to me a while ago at one of the premieres, you remember that one, right?"

Trisha thought back and remembered having seen Nate shaking Caitlyn's hand. "Yes," she said softly.

"Well, he came to me asking for help on a certain problem he had." Caitlyn paused, glancing at Trisha to make sure that she was following this train of thought. "He had this friend that he'd been in love with for a long time, but she wouldn't tell him anything too deep, so he couldn't tell whether or not she really cared for him." At this, Trisha's eyes flashed to Nate's face only to find that he was watching her intently, gauging her reaction. "Nate asked me if I would make it look like I was dating him, in hopes that you would object, and then admit why you were objecting."

Trisha turned to Nate and whispered, "That was mean."

Nate gazed at her, his eyes shining with something that Trisha could not explain, but could only guess that it was love. She had never seen it in his eyes when he looked at Caitlyn, but now, it was shining forth, barely containable. "No," he said slowly. "It was the only way. So many times, I've tried to talk to you, tried to ask you if you felt the same way, but you would never give me a chance. You would always send your guard up before I could tell you how I felt." He glanced at Caitlyn and smiled at her. "Caitlyn was really the only way I could think of asking you how you felt. I mean, Shane did tell me that you loved me, but-"

Trisha's head whipped up to look at him as the words came out of his mouth. "Shane?" she asked, startled. "Shane told you that I loved you?"

Nate nodded. "Without him, I would've never figured out how you felt about me."

Trisha shook her head, but couldn't help grinning. "I'm going to kill him the next time I see him."

Caitlyn laughed, touching Trisha lightly on the shoulder. "Well I'm glad that this adventure's over," she said. "I've been getting pretty tired of pretending and sneaking around just to see Andy."

Trisha frowned. "Who's Andy?" she asked.

"My boyfriend," Caitlyn replied. She smiled at Nate and said, "My real boyfriend." She explained, "We had to make you believe that we were really dating, so I couldn't be seen with Andy. I nearly went insane!" She smiled. "I owe him big time for sticking around for so long and putting up with all my disguises and late-night outings." She glanced from Nate to Trisha, and back again. "But it was worth it," she said with conviction.

"That's what you meant that day in the park!" Trisha exclaimed, the pieces beginning to fall into place.

"What do you mean?" Nate asked, confused.

"You told Nate that he'd have to tell me something soon," Trisha reminded Caitlyn. "This was what you meant."

"Why you little eavesdropper!" Nate exclaimed with a laugh.

Caitlyn nodded. "It's true," she said. "We were both getting pretty tired of playing the game, yet you didn't seem any closer to cracking." She smiled at Trisha. "Now that you know I'm not taking your boy away, could we maybe be friends?"

Trisha smiled and nodded. "I'd like that," she said, standing and giving Caitlyn a hug. "Thank you," she said, "for everything you did." Caitlyn nodded, and Trisha added, "And tell Andy that he has a great girlfriend. He should hang on to you." Caitlyn laughed and headed out of the banquet hall to give the new couple their privacy.

Trisha sank back down into the chair, her mind racing as she tried to put all the months of activities into order, now that she was seeing them in a different light. She jumped when Nate put his hand on her shoulder. "Sorry," she said. "I was off in thought."

"I'm sorry I got mad at you," Nate said. "I wasn't really mad, but I was afraid that I would actually have to marry Caitlyn to get you to say something, and then it would be too late."

Trisha nodded, cracking a smile at the thought. "I understand," she said. After a pause, she added, "I think." She grinned up at Nate and added, "I find it very, very sweet of you to go through all of this for me. It shows that you really care." She paused for a moment and then, when something in the back of her mind hit her, she exclaimed, "So you weren't going to marry her at all!"

Nate smiled at her and shook his head, his grin growing wider as he pulled Trisha up from the chair so that he could hold her close once more. "No," he said softly. "See, there's this other girl, and she's a pain in the rear end," he said, his eyes twinkling as he bent his head towards Trisha's, "but I'm so in love with her." He kissed her again, this kiss softer, more loving than the first one.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Trisha rested her head on Nate's chest. "Nate," she said as she thought of something.

"Hmm?" he asked, the vibrations making his chest rumble.

"What are we going to do with all that food I made?"

Nate laughed as he considered that aspect. "Oh, I think I know someone that can help us, don't you?"

Trisha looked up at him, and the sparkle in his eyes suggested good, clean mischief. "I can guess," she said. Arm in arm, they walked out of the banquet hall, calling the name of the only person fit for the job.

"Shane!"

**A/N: Well, there it is. I hoped you liked it. Thank you to all of you who were such great reviewers! You guys are awesome! I'm hoping to start working on a challenge soon, so be ready for that. Don't worry though, I'll get to my other pieces soon!**

**cr8vgrl**


End file.
